Origen hangs back with Yuuwa, lookly with obvious unease at the empty village. He whispers, "This place seems abandoned. Where are the people?"
When Isandril shouts about the zombie, Origen says, "So much for stealth." He runs toward the scouts, but looks from side to side for any signs of an ambush.
"Torden, what goes on within this castaway village?" She grips her shield and holds her trident ready, while kneeling behind a decripit shelter. While she looks for what holds Jonagher's focus, her eyes are constantly drawn to the horizon, scanning the shipwrecks for other signs of life.
"Starstone fall on me, it appears more of the walking dead inhabit the village. Isandril yelled something else, but I missed it. It sounded like he said vegitation, mayhaps there are more in the tree line. Let's catch up."
Torden grips his warhammer tightly and moves to the beach.
Origen matches Torden's shorter strides. Don't want to split us up any more than we already are.
Yuuwa's simple detection spell reveals that there was no poison present in the trap, but simple observation proves its effectiveness and lethality.
The group closes in on the center of the village. Strips of torn and faded cloth dance and snap in the wind. The only real constant sound is the surf. The person stands near the center of the ring of ramshackle huts, staring away from you.
Yuuwa, Origen, Torden, and Isandril make it within 40 of the person and the center of the village, while Torden and Jonagher can make it within 20 feet of the person.
Jonagher moves closer and to the side, drawing an arrow silently and preparing to strike.
Torden, with a quick burst of speed, rushes forward, the slightly damp ground making his approach near silent.
As the others move forward, they collectively make enough noise, that the person turns from their northwesterly gaze, and turns toward the group. You see now that this was not a green cloak, but some sort of vegetative covering over a dead person! It looks just like those zombies...but greener! It moans!
Yuuwa notices the scouts move into an aggressive stance, and takes up a more defensive posture near the rear. She is perhaps but 40 feet from the zombie!
Origen doesn't have to move far to bring himself within casting range. He casts his gaze about, but quickly realizes that this zombie is utterly alone.
Torden:
Isandril moves forward, drawing his daggers as he goes.
Jonagher releases his arrow at the zombie as it charges Isandril. It strikes it in the chest, the arrow burying itself with the plant tendrils inside the zombie. It seems to have had little effect.
The zombie charges at Isandril, shuffling forward at a ferocious pace...for a zombie. While no means quick, it is certainly fearsome as it brings down one vine covered fist at Isandril. It misses him, as he deftly dodges out of the way, and slams its vine covered fist into the damp dirt below.
Origen moves up closer at an angle, trying to get a clear shot past his friends. "What sort of creature is this, Torden?"
He launches a sizzling bolt of acid at the plant-covered zombie.
"Ah . . . vegetation, I see," finally understanding Isandril's previous comment. He turns his attention from the treeline and to the . . . villager?
Isandril
As the zombie steps in to slam Isandril to the ground, Isandril dodges under the impotent swing, and slashes the zombie across the underarm area. Vines and withered flesh fall to the ground.
Origen
Origen moves forward 10 feet to be within 30 feet of the zombie. His sizzling bolt of acid slams into the plant-covered zombie, and the acid eats a hole into its chest cavity.
Torden
Torden ponders for a moment, and while answering begins to circle the zombie to flank it.
Yuuwa
Setting her trident within easy reach, Yuuwa begins calling to Gozreh, and his servants, the four winds. She shoves her hands towards the zombie, wind chilling the air in a path directly towards the zombie. A sliver of frozen water from the air, a deadly icicle slams into the zombie, and buries itself deep in its side.
The zombie gets slammed with the icicle from Yuuwa, then charges Isandril. Jonagher fires into it, pulling it off balance just enough for its swing at Isandril to go wide, allowing Isandril to step into the swing and viciously slice the zombie open.
The zombie drops to the ground, breaking apart in a cloud of vines and yellow spores.
The zombie drops to the ground, breaking apart in a cloud of vines and yellow spores.
"Everyone all right?" Origen cautiously approaches, taking care to stay well away from the spores coating the ground near the corpse. "This seems different from those zombies that we fought earlier."
"Why don't we look around this place and make sure that it's really deserted? As long as those spores aren't going to make us sick if we stay."
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Yuuwa thanks Gozreh for his almighty guidance and brief possession of her action. Truly she has been blessed. "Personally I've never knew a vegatative Zombie species. What of this village? Did this one zombie take out this campsite despite dropping so quickly in our battle? How?"
She picks up her trident, using it to dislodge tent fabric looking for anything that may shed light upon this situation.
"Seeing as how more of them are not to be seen moving towards us," the elf says, a look of distaste momentarily apparent on his face as he looks at his dagger, "I think it is safe to assume that this one was alone here."
Cleaning his weapon's blade with a piece of fabric hanging from a nearby hut, Isandril starts looking around, his daggers still in his hands in case his assumption is wrong. "Do you think we might find anything of use here? It does look entirely abandoned."
"Do you think we might find anything of use here? It does look entirely abandoned."
"Maybe this thing once lived here...with whoever built these shelters," Jonagher suggests as he gingerly pulls his arrows from the corpse to see if either of them are salvageable, "I suspect whatever happened to this guy might have happened to the rest of them. So, keep a sharp eye out in case more of them come wandering back here..." The half-elf then slings his bow...which seemed less than adequate for such beasts...and draws his short sword, just in case.
"Let's have a look around and see if there's anything we can scavenge here," he tells everyone, "If these people were shipwrecked here the same as us, surely they stockpiled everything they could to survive...though, clearly they had the misfortune of succumbing to some kind of jungle rot."
Torden stands quietly over the few leafy remnants, stunned by the swiftness of the things dispatch.
“Well,” he says after overcoming his shock. “That was not a ‘zombie’ as we might think of it. The undead are surrounded by true death and rot. This creature had life, plant life to be sure, but life nonetheless.”
He pauses and thinks of the infection he recently incurred from the thorns.
“I can’t say that I know enough to truly believe that those thorns may have eventually resulted in a similar fate for me, but I think it is safe to assume that there is some aggressive form of plant around here that we should be aware of.”
Torden then moves to assist in the searching of the settlement.
"A plant infestation?" Origen takes a step back. "Then I'll make sure that these spores don't do more harm."
Origen repeatedly hits the corpse and the spore-covered ground around it with a ray of blue-black energy. The first few don't seem to do much, but as he continues, the corpse is covered with a layer of frost.
"If this is a jungle plant, it probably won't respond well to being frozen."
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Yuuwa watches Origen methodically freeze the sandy corpse and spores. "I am liking this island less and less. So if these shipwreck survivors died of veggie zombism which may explain the rumors of undead hauntings,any clue on how to destroy any others effectively without becoming one?
She uses her trident to shift the tent fabric and debris to look for plant life in the shape of humanoid figures. Looking for confirmation of theory as well as something possibly useful.
Yuuwa watches Origen methodically freeze the sandy corpse and spores. "I am liking this island less and less. So if these shipwreck survivors died of veggie zombism which may explain the rumors of undead hauntings,any clue on how to destroy any others effectively without becoming one?
Origen frowns. I can remember reading about something like this before the first expedition, but it's all hazy now. Useless. . . .
He fires another ray into the corpse's head. "No idea, except for not letting them get close. I don't know much about jungle plants, but the risks depend on how whatever was animating the body spreads. Torden, do you know anything more about how to protect ourselves?"
"No idea, except for not letting them get close. I don't know much about jungle plants, but the risks depend on how whatever was animating the body spreads. Torden, do you know anything more about how to protect ourselves?"
"I foresee two major efforts we could undertake," Jonagher drily offers, "One...we avoid eating all fruits and vegetables on the island...and entirely devote ourselves to becoming carnivores. Or...and it seems certain Origen will favor this one...we turn the whole island into a winter wonderland, one freezing ray at a time to kill off all the island's vegetation. That should also have the added benefit of making it easier to travel inland...and maybe even help passing ships spot us...as we'll be the only remarkable thing still standing along the beaches."
The half-elf grins with his joke in an attempt to inject some levity back into their adventure.
"Personally, I say we keep the shade trees and skip the fruits and veggies. I don't care what our mothers told us. Some of those things are clearly poisonous. And now we have the evidence right before our very own eyes. Make certain you record this important discovery in your journal, Torden...so we can share it with the whole world when we get back to civilization."
"Or...and it seems certain Origen will favor this one...we turn the whole island into a winter wonderland, one freezing ray at a time to kill off all the island's vegetation."
"Well, if it'd get us off this island, I'd seriously consider it, Witt." Origen fires another bolt of cold at the spores. "From what my father used to say, it wouldn't be that first time that Pathfinders had to destroy something to 'save' it. But don't put that in your book, Torden, or I'll never hear the end of it from the Sargavan Venture-Captain."
After completing your search, you find yourselves alone in this desolate camp. Frozen spores popping as the ice melts in the heat. A light misting of rain begins to fall. Nothing too serious...more a shift of humidity and moisture than any real rain.
It has been hours since you were on the top of that plateau. The time nearer to evening. You can tell by the position of the sun that dusk is fast approaching. The fight with the zombie was unexpectedly fast, but the day spent slogging through the jungle burned most of the day light.
"Well, looky here..." Jonagher announces as he emerges from one of the ramshackle huts. He holds an old, worn bell in his hands.
"The inscription on this thing reads The Bloody Doll," he offers, "Probably a ship's bell, but that's not exactly a friendly sounding name. I'm guessing the castaways who built these huts must've shipwrecked like us."
"We might want to ask one of the others back at camp if they've heard any rumors of such a ship in case it gives us more clues into who these people might have been. Or maybe Yuuwa or Isandril knows something?"
After examining some of the troubling shacks, Torden sits in the sand and observes the spores as they thaw. Soon, his mind begins to piece together some tale he heard long ago and the event just witnessed.
"Ah," he finally says, regaining his feet. "Over there, those plants," he points to the Yellow plants they'd seen from above. "Yellow Musk Creeper, indeed. Yes. Those plants are the ones we should avoid, those re the plants the will eat us rather than the other way around. I dare say we don't need to turn completely carnivorous, just cautious."
Hearing Jonagher tell of his discovery, Torden's mood again sours. " The Bloody Doll. . . how horrid. This place gets worse and worse. Why not The Throaty Mermaid ? Though a disreputable ship, I've heard, the name is much more lively."
"Ah," he finally says, regaining his feet. "Over there, those plants," he points to the Yellow plants they'd seen from above. "Yellow Musk Creeper, indeed. Yes. Those plants are the ones we should avoid, those re the plants the will eat us rather than the other way around. I dare say we don't need to turn completely carnivorous, just cautious."
Origen visibly relaxes. "So why are they only up there, and not all over the island? Not that I'm complaining."
Hearing Jonagher tell of his discovery, Torden's mood again sours. " The Bloody Doll. . . how horrid. This place gets worse and worse. Why not The Throaty Mermaid ? Though a disreputable ship, I've heard, the name is much more lively."
"Other castaways would certainly fit this island's reputation for wrecking ships. May I see that bell?" Origen takes it and turns it over in his hands, taking care not to ring it by accident. "From the name, I'd guess that these castaways might have been pirates. Or maybe it's cursed somehow." He casts a familiar-sounding spell.
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Yuuwa inspects the ship's bell too. "I doubt its cursed, and Origen, I believe your assumption is probably correct. Pirates tend to stay out of shipping lanes until a prize is sighted. Islands such as these are common hideaways for repairs and maintenance by crew without customs officials, military or even desparate bounty hunters poking around." She looks along the jungle lining the tidal shoreline.
"Evidence of violence, yet no bodies. One lonely Yellow Musk Zombie, no mounds of vegetation. I don't recall seeing any yellow flowers along the trail here. Perhaps he was the only infected one and the rest were, um, assimilated into the tribe population? Yuuwa taps her chin in thought, a calculating gleam in her eye. She grows silent and listens to the conversation and chimes in agreement if the natives' village are the next stop on the island tour. She unrolls her map and marks location of yellow creepers and Bloody Doll encampment.
When Torden points, he points to the southeast of your position, indicating the "meadow" of yellow flowers seen from above the ridge yesterday.
Where the trap was on the trail, you did notice that it continued on to the southwest between another ridge and some more of the ever present jungle.
Yuuwa inspects the ship's bell too. "I doubt its cursed . . . .
"No harm checking. But without any enchantment, it's very likely just a bell." He hands the bell back to Jonagher.
"So, should we camp, or go onwards to the village? The twilight should give you and Jonagher an advantage, Isandril."
"No harm checking. But without any enchantment, it's very likely just a bell." He hands the bell back to Jonagher.
Jonagher politely declines the bell, already disinterested in it.
"So, should we camp, or go onwards to the village? The twilight should give you and Jonagher an advantage, Isandril."
"The cover of darkness could certainly help us get a better sense of these island natives...or castaways," Jonagher agrees. "I say we press on. If we can find their village...assuming they have one and don't simply live in caves...we could stake out a spot and observe them through the night and into the early morning before withdrawing to plan our next move. Everyone will need to be extra careful so we're quiet. Isandril and I should be able to help guide you. After that, we bed down in the jungle and keep a cold camp in exchange for the opportunity to gather some vital information."
Torden thinks back to his dreams from the night prior.
"Let's press on. We've rested enough. We should find Bran's attackers--whether they be in a village or on one of these wrecks. We can always circle back around and inspect the shipwrecks later--I don't think they're going anywhere."
"So, onwards then, my fellows," Isandril agrees, his tone mirthful. "Let us see what we find in this village. And after the 'main course', so to speak, we can always turn to the shipwrecks and Ishirou's little treasure hunt and those flying lizards for 'dessert'."
"You know," he adds with a smile as he sheathes his daggers and starts making his way, "this is proving to be quite the intriguing place to find oneself as a castaway if such a thing cannot be helped."
Origen follows Jonagher and Isandril, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Unfortunately, as the light fades, his lack of night vision makes it hard for him to keep from making noise.
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Yuuwa does a cursory looksee over the village again, slowly meandering to follow the others.
DM
She is not subtle about catching up, noisy and winded she exlaims to Torden "Rather be out at sea than trudging in the jungle, but dislike enemies at one's back even more." She slows her pace to that of Torden's until she catches her breath, a look of guilty acknowledgemnt about the attempts at stealth.
Stealth She apparently has trouble catching her breath.
Survival
Perception
The brave adventurers decide to push on...
It takes little time to backtrack along the trail to where the group found the spike trap. There is a light breeze, and the ocean sounds far away. It is almost pleasant. You can hear the miscellaneous sounds of various crickets and jungle critters going about their nightly dance. The light fades from normal to dim as the sun sets, throwing brilliant oranges and reds across the skies.
The group stops, and listens, having found another spike trap on the trail. It seems that game trails move through here off and on, and these seem to be set to take advantage of the wanderings of critters...two legged and otherwise. The bugs keep calling, and nothing moves in the deepening gloom of the evening. You can hear the drums pulsing again, beating a funky jungle beat further to the southwest. You push on, marching quietly...relatively...along the trail.
When his companions point out the next spike trap, Origen stops. He says softly, "It might be better to disable this one too. If we have to run back this way later, we might run into it in the dark."
After dealing with the trap, Origen continues, trying to follow the scouts as quietly as possible. He stands still for a moment and listens for any response whenever he or his companions make noise.
As the moon begins to raise on the horizon...casting a cool light upon the landscape, you move further along the trail, coming to another "T" shaped intersection. To the right you can see the trail heads back toward the bay in the island. The trail to the left heads in the direction of the drums, and passes through a few draws, the sides being the towering ridges on either side of the trail.
As the group continues marching on, Isandril's elven nature finally catches up with him, as he can no longer fight off the effects of weariness. "I think," he manages, his breathing more than a little heavy, "I could certainly use some rest."
The warrior manages a smile as he adds, "Or perhaps more than some..."
"Jonager," Torden cries out from the rear of the marching order. "Gads, for a bit I thought a constrictor or viper had selected you for supper. 'Twas just a vine, eh? A trap? Someone doesn't want company."
Perhaps his dwarven blood, or perhaps his curiousity about the drums, or maybe his fear of falling asleep and dreaming of snakes pushes Torden to keep marching.
"C'mon Isandril, you'll be fine. Keep moving. We should keep moving."
Perhaps it was the exertion of trekking around the jungle or his annoyance with how loud Yuuwa's passage through the underbrush kept his nerves on edge, but Jonagher just couldn't quite notice the obvious vine trap running along the ground. When it snapped and nearly snared him, a sinking feeling of regret and very real fear grew in his stomach. But then...
...the vine snapped in two, racing overhead as the bent tree attached to it violently straightened again.
"Jonager....Gads, for a bit I thought a constrictor or viper had selected you for supper. 'Twas just a vine, eh? A trap? Someone doesn't want company."
"Uh...why, yes. Indeed. Just another trap," he answers with his usual bravado, though this time, it's a bit more forced than real.
"Why...I was just...ummm...that is...I thought...that I'd...trigger this one! Yes! And save us the trouble of having to disarm or avoid it on the way back." He finishes the statement with a lot more certainty and self-assurance than he started.
As the group continues marching on, Isandril's elven nature finally catches up with him, as he can no longer fight off the effects of weariness. "I think," he manages, his breathing more than a little heavy, "I could certainly use some rest." The warrior manages a smile as he adds, "Or perhaps more than some..."
"C'mon Isandril, you'll be fine. Keep moving. We should keep moving."
"I think I'm inclined to agree with Isandril," Jonagher offers, hiding his exhaustion now that the elf has so conveniently announced his own. "We should find a place to bed down for the night...preferably without any more of these traps nearby. Come morning, we'll have a bit more light to watch our step. And we'll be rested enough to outrun our enemies in the event we need to retreat. As it is, if we continue now...and get in over our heads...Isandril would just slow us down."
He nods at his elven half-kinsman to reassure him, inwardly thankful for the reprieve as much as anyone else.
Origen catches sight of the trap just as Jonagher "disarms" it. "Outstanding, Jonagher."
I was afraid that if we found another trap, we'd have to stare at him again until he got the point. But he's really taking the initiative!
The strain of the climb--and Origen's illness the day before--tires out the sorceror. "I think that I agree with Isandril too, Torden. Let's set up some some watches and rest."
"Since Torden seems hale and hearty with that dwarven constitution of his...and also capable of seeing in the dark," Jonagher suggests, "Perhaps he can take the deepest nightwatch? Meanwhile, I'll stay awake as long as I can with Isandril here on the early watch. Yuuwa? Why don't you rise early with Origen in the morning while the rest of us sleep?"
Torden looks at the others, a bit dejected.
"Okay, then rest we shall. I will be happy to take the middle watch."
He offers, but doubts that he will get much rest during the first watch.
Seeing the others struggling, Torden works to set the camp and prepare some food and find some water.
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Yuuwa presses on with Torden. She has caught her second wind but with the reduced lighting makes no effort to be stealthy.
She agrees with Jonagher and Isandril about resting for the night. "Nothing like having a fight at night, at the time and place of their choosing while we are exhausted. Thanks but no thanks. Lets get off the trail, catch some sleep, eat a little bit. I can take the first watch."
Yuuwa hoping that her stealthy racket will keep the wild animals away moreso than attract unwanted attention, has a wonderful idea. As the others settle down, this lifetime sailor in her most woodscrafty way...
DM B
Stealth
Perception
Survival
She wakes Torden for the midwatch, hopefully with nothing to report.
"...Lets get off the trail, catch some sleep, eat a little bit. I can take the first watch."
"Ah...well...if you insist, my dear," Jonagher accepts all too-readily. "I believe I'll turn in early then and catch as much rest as I'm able before our likely confrontation with these drum-beating villagers tomorrow."
He's fast asleep almost as soon as he beds down.
Origen falls asleep almost as quickly as Jonagher, though his rest is less peaceful.
When Torden calls him for his watch, Origen seems not to recognize his friend at first. He suddenly sits straight up, mumbling in an unknown language.
Torden recognizes the language as Aklo. "I'a f'tagn Yig . . . ."
After a moment, Origen comes to himself. "Torden? Sorry. I don't even remember what I was dreaming this time." He gets up to take his watch.
"Origen, Origen," Torden yells loud enough for all to hear as he kicks the mumbling sorcerer. "A bird! A bird in the night sky!"
He quickly grabs, two daggers, one to throw and one to hold at the ready should the creature swoop down at him.
"Origen, Origen," Torden yells loud enough for all to hear as he kicks the mumbling sorcerer. "A bird! A bird in the night sky!"[/ooc]
Origen is cut off in mid-mumble. "Ugh!" He unsteadily stands up, looking for any silhouettes against the sky.